When The Smoke Is Going Down
by Sampala
Summary: Sam and Dean investigate a string of mysterious killings in a small barely populated town in Florida. The only problem is they can't figure out what's killing the people of the town. Can they finish the job before it becomes a ghost town?
1. Chapter 1

Brandy Pivar had her championship track game in a few weeks, so waking up at 5 am for a run around her neighborhood was part of her daily routine._ This year I'm taking first place_ Brandy thought as she slipped on her shoes, which looked like they had been trampled on by a stampede of wild mustangs. She knew about the neighborhood watch, and in such a small suburban Florida town, the only thing Brandy had to look out for was the occasional gater or snake. She wasn't to concerned however, because she grew up in the area and knew how to deal with a sighting.

The temperature was unseasonably cold for an October morning. The usual sticky humid air was dry and crisp, it was the kind of weather they got up in New York around Fall. She knew this because she spent a few weeks every year at her grandmother's house near Lake Erie as a child. Brandy suddenly wished she had grabbed her sweater before leaving after she started her jog. She decided it would be best to shorten her run today as a precaution, without a sweater she could catch a cold and that would ruin her chances of winning first place.

Brandy sprinted alongside a vacant playground that by noon would be overflowing with children from the nearby Elementary School. She didn't mind the children; it was the playground she wasn't fond of. Her father used to take her to that playground every Saturday after he got home from work when she was growing up. But he's long gone now, ran away and remarried a floozy from Las Vegas. Shortly after the separation Brandy discontinued dorming and moved back in with her mother to help her deal with the pain.

As she stopped to take a rest she noticed her shoe was untied. She bent down to tie it and thought she heard something moving near the bushes.

"A cat maybe" she reasoned with her thoughts.

She laughed at the thought of herself being a little weary of the noise. She then took her jogging position and started back on her way. She made a short cut in her usual trail to get home earlier by crossing an old bridge that looked to be about as old as when the town was first settled. She passed it quickly and came upon a grove of trees on each side of the road. It was silent and lifelessly still, as most people were still asleep in their beds.

A rustling commotion came from the tree tops. It was loud enough for Brandy to stop and try to place what could have made the sound. When she failed to match the odd noise, she thought it would be best to alert the animal catcher that something might be on the loose.

Brandy began jogging again, her pace had picked up, but before she could establish composing herself while she was running, a jagged blunt force clashed with the side of her head. The sound of the blow rang in her right ear, the pain was instant and her vision blurred as her body clasped onto the road. She had recovered enough to scramble to her feet and try to flee from whatever just attacked her. She couldn't see clearly what attacked her, nor did she care enough to find out, a bear maybe she thought as a frantically started running away.

Suddenly she was jerked back to the ground, her body clasped on the road as if she was hit with a bolt of lightning. That's when the claw; large and uncouth, streamed across her left leg, nearly hitting the bone in her calf. A scream of agony reached the top of her lungs and echoed throughout the empty road. Brandy tried to crawl away from her attacker which still wasn't in clear view, trying not to move her wounded leg. She screamed for help as loud as her shaken voice could muster, but nobody came. _oh my god, I'm being mauled by a bear. I'm gonna die, someone please help me! _She thought before another blow hit her in the head, this one felt even harder than the first. Whatever it was that was attacking her, had her by the leg and was dragging her away. She tried in vain to dig her nails into the ground to stop it from carrying her away. The last thing she saw before she fell unconscious was the trail of blood she left behind while she was being dragged into the woods.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean Winchester opened the thin white metal door to his 2 star motel room that he was sharing with his younger brother Sam. It's not the classiest place to stay in the town, but when you live off of credit card scams and pool hustling you make due Dean thought as he noticed the tacky flowered wallpaper that had faded to a yellowish tinge. He closed the door behind him and locked it. When your job is hunting things that go bump in the night, it just becomes second nature to be cautious.

Sam's lengthy body was arched over his seat leaning on the table. His face was buried in his computer screen when Dean walked in. In one hand Dean had a cup of coffee, the other one handled a brown paper bag of fast food which is carelessly tossed onto the table across from Sam.

"I hope you like Bear Claws, cause apparently everyone in this town is a morning person. Damn Vultures! I barely had time to get these. What town doesn't have a McDonalds!" Dean protested as he leaned against the wall adjacent to Sam.

Sam looked up from the screen to the bag on the table. The bottom of the bag was already soggy from the saturated fat of the donuts.

"Ah, maybe later" he said with a hint of disgust in his voice as he acknowledged the grease on the bag.

Dean took a sip of his coffee, pushed off against the wall and sat down at the other open seat at the table.

"So what do you got?" he said as he placed his coffee onto the worn out wooden table.

Sam clicked his mouse a few times, and then looked up at Dean with his reply.

"Well, there are 3 missing person cases and 1 severely mangled body in Florida"

"So what then, Someone didn't want to share their picnic basket with Yogi Bear? Doesn't sound like our kind of job" Dean said as he sat at the table.

"Maybe" Sam Agreed "But the recovered body was found in a tree, 50 feet in the air and without her skin"

Dean's interest slightly peaked and he responded with sarcasm ripe in his voice.

"Some people wake up with Folgers, we wake up to scouting for people who have been peeled like oranges. So you're thinking maybe predator had his Wheaties?"

Sam exhales with contentment

"I doubt we're dealing with an extra terrestrial, Dean"

Dean stood up and pointed to Sam

"See that? That right there. That is exactly why you don't get laid. You can't just say alien like everyone else?" Dean questioned him as he walked over to his bed. He grabbed his bag from the side and plopped it on top of the lumpy surface.

Sam ignored Dean's jab at him

"I think this might be worth looking into, we've gone on less" Sam said as he closed his lap top.

"Where is this place at?" Dean asked Sam as he threw some equipment into his bag along with the knife he always slept with by his side.

Sam stood up from his chair and delicately packed his computer back into his shoulder bag.

"Liberty County, Florida" he answered back

Dean yawned tossed his packed bag on the table next to Sam's bag and sat back down. He leaned back and kicked his feet up on the table.

"That's only three states away, should be there by mid-afternoon, we could stay a bit longer here if you want. That English teacher seemed all kinds of turned on after you polished off that Rakshasa."

Sam smiled at the thought of Dean always trying to pimp him out to girls.

"No thanks Dean, I think we've over stayed our welcome here, won't be long till Hendrickson is on our trail"

Sam picked up the rest of his belongings unlocked the door and walked out to the 1967 Chevy Impala that their father had given Dean.

Dean followed close behind opened his truck to put their bags in and the two of them went on their way.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam had fallen asleep in the passenger seat of the Impala midway through Dean's shift of driving. Living on the road is tough, but they managed as best as they could. The mix of repeating scenery and the tape player stuck on "Winds of Change" by the Scorpions (courtesy of Dean) had put the final nail in the coffin. After all Sam's sleep schedule had been severely disordered after the death of his girlfriend, Jessica.

It seemed like every time Sam closed his eyes he either saw the flames on the ceiling engulfing her or the fire engrossing his father, John, during his cremation. Their father had been tracking down the thing that killed his wife for years. It wasn't till recently it showed its face. It turned out that the thing that killed their mother was a yellow-eyed demon, a very powerful and high-ranked demon. When John finally pinned the Yellow-Eye demon, the battle ended with Sam, Dean, and John in the Hospital. Dean was admitted into the ICU and wasn't expected to live. So without Sam or Dean's acknowledgement, John had made a deal the demon so that Dean could live, but in exchange would give up his own life.

"Wakey, Wakey - Eggs and Bakey, Sammy" Dean said in a chirper tone as he turned down a road littered with small mom and pop business. Some were open but the overwhelming amount of stores looked like they hadn't been open since radio broadcasts and fireside chats were all the rage.

Sam groggily opened his eyes to see the ghost town.

"Where are we?" Sam said as he sat up in the leather seat.

Dean smiled "About 5 minutes from the Lady lucky motel, in beautiful liberty county Florida. Home of the less than many people it would seem. This place looks pretty deserted. Did you sleep okay?"

Sam squinted as the sun hit his eyes, causing him to instead look out the side window's view.

"Better than usual, I suppose" Sam said with an undertone of remorse.

"You're still not having those dreams are you?" Dean said with concern.

Sam continued looking out the window and with a softer tone began to speak

"No, they stopped; I haven't had one since the hospital"

Dean gave him a concerned look they quickly faded into optimism.

"Good, as least something is starting to look up"

Sam remained silent as they drove into the parking lot of the motel. He decided it was best not to worry Dean about him still having the nightmares. It's not like Dean had a magic potion to wish them away anyway. It was something he had to deal with himself, no matter how much suffering it caused it.

The lot looked forsaken with barely a half a dozen cars. This alerted Dean that something in this town differently is not right. It's almost 6pm, which means this lot should be filled with cars from unfaithful partners and junkies. This is, after all the cheapest motel in the town, and this isn't the first time Dean has seen what goes on in places like this.

"Well Sammy, I think you may be right about this being our kind of job" Dean said as he pulled into a parking space, shifted gears and turned off his car.

"I'll go pay for two nights and find out any information I can from the clerk. Why don't you find our FBI tags, I think we need to pay the morgue a visit"

Dean walked up to the wooden door. The door was white but the paint was peeling off in small chips which had been collecting on the upswept floor for some time now. Dean opened the door to the motel office slightly and took a peek inside. The room was empty and had a funny smell to it, it smelled of sulfur. The only thing that leaves a powerful sulfur smell like that is demons. Dean thought as he reached for his gun, just in case. He swung the door wide up and looked around.

"Whoa, what are you doing there son? That there's an antique door you almost knocked off the hinges." said the man that walked in with a big bushy beard and a pair of overall on.

Dean hid his gun back into his pocket for now. Better do a checklist before shooting a hole in the man. Dean took a defensive stance.

"Boy, I ain't got all day do you want a room or not? I gotta get back to fixin the pipes, ain't supposed to be havin' Sulfer in the water no more" The man said.

Dean let out a relieved sigh. "But demon's lie" Dean thought to himself, "Maybe it's a trick, gotta make sure"

"Oh, my apologies, Christos." Dean said in a sharp tone. If this man was a possessed speaking God's name in Latin would cause him to flinch.

The man gave him a confused look "What you talkin' about Boy, my name ain't Crease-o, its Jacob and if you ain't getting a room, I think its best you be movin' along"

Dean smiled embarrassed he was wrong about this man. He pulled out a wad of money and stuck it on the table.

"Sorry Jacob, guess I'm not good at putting names with faces. If you could give me a room with two twin beds for a couple of nights that would be great."

Jacob annoyed at Dean grabbed the cash from the table and tossed a key on the down.

"Room 8, on the left, when ya walk out" Jacob said

"Thanks" Dean replied as he picked up the keys "You think maybe you could tell me about….." Dean continued but Jacob had already disappeared again.

"Alright, it was nice talking to you" Dean said to himself before he walked out the door to meet up with Sam. He was leaning on the Impala waiting for Dean to return with the room key.

"So what did you find out? Hey, wait! Do you smell that? It's Sulfur!" Sam said attentively.

Dean opened the trunk and in a annoyed voice answered Sam

"There's apparently sulfur in the water, and Jacob, the dear that he is, is trying to fix the leaky pipes"

Sam smiled "You threw holy water on him didn't you?"

Dean responded unamused "No, I. I used Christos on him"

Sam held back a giggle "And?"

"And it didn't work, end of story. Now let's start unloading we got a lot of work to do"

Sam laughed "Whatever you say, Mr. Smooth talker"


End file.
